


Counterfeit

by domesticadventures



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Coda, Episode: s11e09 O Brother Where Art Thou, Headspace, M/M, Season/Series 11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 17:31:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5752003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/domesticadventures/pseuds/domesticadventures
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he's near Amara, he feels truly, blissfully happy.</p><p>It’s this that scares him more than anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Counterfeit

With every day Amara still roams free, it becomes harder and harder to justify leaving Cas on the bench.

“We need him,” Sam says, when it becomes clear Dean isn’t going to take the initiative.

Dean knows they need Cas, perhaps now more than ever. There’s a difference, though, between the selfish, personal need Dean feels and the equally pressing but far more important the-world-is-at-stake kind of need Sam is talking about. The longer Dean doesn’t press the issue, just lets Cas continue to commandeer Sam’s room and binge watch shows on Netflix, the longer he can indulge the former and ignore the latter.

Especially when the latter involves a personal visit with a monster all three of them nearly died in order to shove into a cage.

Cas knew Lucifer personally, counts him among his siblings, no matter how begrudgingly. But Cas counts Sam among his family willingly, cares for him enough that he’s already pulled him from hell once.

If Cas helps Sam, he might actually succeed with that stupid plan of his.

“Dean,” Sam says, when he opens his mouth to protest. “You need to get him to help.” It’s his way of saying, _If I ask Cas for this, he’ll try to stop me. But you can convince him._

“I’m not gonna force him,” Dean says, “but I’ll talk to him.”

There’s another possibility, too, Dean thinks, as he walks to Sam’s room. A scenario in which Cas doesn’t try to help Sam get in touch with Lucifer without letting him undo everything it took to make sure he stayed permanently _out_ of touch. It’s possible Cas would tag along with Dean to scope out the church -- to try and track down Amara. To maybe actually _find_ Amara. And part of him thinks that might be worse.

The thing is, Dean is used to pain and anger and suffering. He’s used to watching people die, to letting them go, to giving up on hopes and dreams and aspirations. He’s used to the fear and exhaustion that come from a lifetime spent as the fulcrum upon which the world seesaws between tentative peace and complete destruction. Even the idea of facing down the devil is nothing new.

When he's near Amara, though, he feels truly, blissfully happy.

It’s this that scares him more than anything.

He tries to imagine, sometimes, what it would be like with Cas there, with the three of them all in the same room. He tries to picture himself standing between them, being pulled in both directions.

He wonders if, in that scenario, he would make the right choice. There was a time when Cas fisted his hands in Dean’s shirt, slammed him into a wall, cracked his head against the side of a building. Now, though? He’s far more used to the feel of Cas’ hand on his shoulder, his arms wrapped around his back, his presence in the bunker.

He wonders if, given the chance, he would be strong enough to walk in the direction he’s been headed for years now. If he would be able to choose whatever this thing is between him and Cas, this thing that is tentative and fragile and a little frightening. He wonders if he would choose this thing that is real, every second of every day, even when Cas isn’t around, over the temporary, contrived ecstasy Amara has to offer.

He imagines it and he doesn’t know if he could do it, and that scares him, too.

He pushes those thoughts aside as he approaches Sam’s room, sounds from the TV spilling out into the hallway through the open door.

“Hey,” Dean says, hovering in the doorway. “I’m heading out.” He said he would talk to Cas, after all. He just never made any representations regarding what he would actually say.

Cas pauses whatever show it is he’s watching and turns to Dean, frowning. “Do you not need my help?”

“Nah, man, don’t worry about it,” Dean says. “We’ve got it handled. Besides, wouldn’t want to interrupt you in the middle of, uh…” He gestures to the TV.

“ _Jessica Jones,_ ” Cas says. “The season finale.”

“Right. Well, wouldn’t want you to have to stop at the climactic moment. Just keep your phone on, all right? We’ll give you a call if we need anything.”

“Okay,” Cas says, skeptically.

Dean forces a smile before he turns and heads back down the hall. He pretends he can’t feel Cas’ eyes on his back as he leaves.

“Well?” Sam asks, when Dean reappears.

“Sorry, man,” Dean says, carefully omitting what, exactly, he’s apologizing for. Technically, it isn’t a lie.

Either way, Sam lets him go, so he drives to find Amara while Sam stays behind to find Lucifer. He drives, and he hopes both of them fail.

\--

He isn’t so lucky, of course. Amara finds him, just like he suspects Lucifer is going to find Sam.

Amara kisses him, and through the haze of manufactured bliss, it feels like nothing so much as being shoved up against a wall.

He wishes Cas were here.

\--

Cas can’t focus well enough to enjoy the rest of the season finale of _Jessica Jones._

 _Don’t worry about it,_ Dean had said, as though that were an actual possibility. He hadn’t meant it literally, of course. He may be crass at times, but he’s polite enough not to tell him, _You may as well stay here. You’re useless._

Sam hasn’t asked him for help, either. He can’t think of any other reason than that he doesn’t have anything he can offer.

He supposes they’re right not to trust him. He had tried to play savior, before, when the world hung in the balance, and had nearly ruined everything in the process. He knows better than to make the same attempt now. He’ll wait here until Dean and Sam tell him he’s needed.

If he’s never needed, so be it.

The episode ends, Netflix transitioning to a screen where it suggests several other shows he might enjoy.

That’s what he’s doing when Lucifer is freed: staring blankly at a television set.

Cas described his own true form in human terms, once, for the sake of simplicity. He had said he was the size of the Chrysler Building. Dean and Sam, of course, already knew of the blinding light of his grace.

Lucifer, though? They don’t call him the morningstar for nothing. Gazing upon him is like staring into the sun.

If that weren’t bad enough, he can tell Sam is there, too. He knows the shape and feel of his soul, knows exactly what it means. Knows Sam is caught up in Lucifer’s orbit, unable to escape on his own.

He leans over, elbows resting on his knees, head in his hands, chest tight. He’s afraid of what this means, of the fight that surely looms on the horizon. He wonders: will we three be enough?

He pulls his awareness back into the bunker, empty save for him. He feels the silence pressing in on him, and he thinks, guiltily: Dean will come, now that Sam is in danger. Now that he’s backed into a corner, forced to ask Cas if he can help Sam. Dean will seek him out because he has a use for him.

But at least Dean will come.

Cas sits where he knows Dean will find him and waits.


End file.
